My 8-year-old grandson visited me while I was reading this book and asked, "What's that about, Gammy?" Searching for a way to answer that he could understand, I replied, "It's about a dude who started running around with a bad crowd because they were rich and popular, and when this guy he wanted to impress asked him to do something he knew was stupid and wrong, he did it because he was chicken to say no and wanted to seem cool. One thing led to another, and he kept getting into more and more trouble until finally he got caught and his whole family found out."
That's when I really realized that Anthony Trollope teaches us such universal lessons that even an 8-year-old can relate to many of the situations.
About this book, I might also have answered, "It's about people having false pride, taking joy in being martyrs even when it makes them and those they love miserable, just to impress others (and themselves) with how noble and self sacrificing they are." An 8-year-old might not understand that behavior as well, but he might recognize it, because even his grandmother has been known on occasion to be ostentatiously self sacrificing.
Never think, though, that Trollope is stuffy and preachy just because he teaches lessons about bad and good behavior. He is the most charming of story tellers and treats all his characters even-handedly, allowing his best behaved characters their few faults and even granting the nasty ones their few good traits. His satire is always gentle and always very, very funny.
This is #4 of the Barsetshire novels, and mainly concerns a young clergyman (the dude who messes up) and his younger sister and her romance with a Lord who is a near neighbor (she's one of the several who delight in being noble). As an ignorant American, I could not fully understand some of the humor because it concerns the hierarchy of the Church of England and the goings-on of British government. But, don't worry, there's plenty left to appreciate.
I would particularly point out how well Trollope portrays the ways of women, especially how they can cut each other to pieces while engaging in supposedly cordial polite conversation. His female characters seem like real people, in contrast to those in most Victorian novels. Some are highly intelligent; some are dumb blondes (so to speak); none faint at bad news or fall into illness when disappointed in love; none are perfect angels without blemish.
It would not be necessary to read the Barsetshire novels in the order they were written to appreciate them, but it would enhance the enjoyment, because it becomes a matter of meeting old friends.
Trollope, you rock!
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